Time
by StarbucksJunkie4ever
Summary: After all this time, she still reflects.
1. Chapter 1

**This is the first fanfic that I've felt confident enough to post… so review, but be nice about it if you have criticisms, s'il vouz plait **

**Nothing belongs to me. No characters, No Money…. Basically just my imagination. So please don't sue me – I'm a poor college student so can't afford it anyways. **

The windshield wipers were the only sound in the car, aside from the occasional clatter of the keys clanging against each other above his knee. The weather matched her mood: gloomy and soaking wet. It was somehow calming to see the raindrops slam against the windows. Perhaps Mother Nature was on her same page.

She knew he could feel that something was not right. Perhaps he was feeling it too. She was thankful, however, for his lack of words: she would tell him in her own good time if she wanted to express her emotions. For a moment, she closed her eyes and just listened to the rain. The sound could be compared to mini golf balls hitting the roof of the top of a tin shed. For a split second she imagined standing outside in a hailstorm, the crystalline rocks dissolving her into nothingness.

She was brought back to the present moment by a hand on her knee. She opened her eyes and noted that they were at a stoplight. She stole a glance to her left, but it was apparent that his focus was not moving from straight ahead. Perhaps it had become second nature to always be connected somehow: fingers intertwined, hand on her back, arm in arm, but in this instance, she noticed. And somehow, it made all the difference in the world.

"Mulder," she broke the silence in barely a whisper, but it was like lightning had struck. He responded by slightly tightening his hand on her knee as he began to cruise through the intersection with the change of the light. "Do you ever think back on what you wanted your life to be when you were young?"

"What, like what my big beautiful wedding would be like and the huge mansion my wealthy husband would provide for me?" He stole a quick glance after his statement and noted her lack of response. "Not really, honestly. I learned pretty quickly that the NFL was out of the question and started burying my nose in books instead."

"Hmm," she hummed and resumed her analysis of the window to her right.

"Are you caught in this reflection you so subtly brought up?" he asked and caught her hand in his, turning the left-hand blinker on. "You're never this quiet. What's on your mind?" he asked in a slightly softer voice.

"All little girls have expectations that 98% of the time cannot be fulfilled. I wonder why. It seems like every girl has a dream of her future. Why not be happy as an innocent child?" She accepted his hand, as he had begun to massage her own with his thumb.

"I have a feeling that is not where you were going with this blast from the past." He removed his hand as he put the car in park in front of the house, and turned towards her. "Penny for your thoughts?" he tapped her arm with his forefinger.

"We're wasting gas sitting in the car, right in front of our house, when it is nearly four dollars a gallon." She unbuckled her seatbelt and picked up her umbrella.

"Ever the logical one," he brought his hand behind her head and brought her face to his. "Will you talk to me if I make you some Hot Chocolate a-la-Mulder?" he whispered before gracing her lips with his presence.

"Mmm," she responded in kind, embracing the kiss and then pulling back. "That is manipulation," as she leaned in for one more kiss.

"It's coincidence, actually. I just give in to my urges and it just so happened to be after you brought up the subject. Remember that: YOU brought up the subject." He turned the lights off and removed the key from the ignition.

After racing inside, they both shed their coats. "I'll change into something more comfortable while you make the hot chocolate," she called as she climbed the stairs.

"Is that your final answer!" he yelled as he crumpled up some newspapers and threw them into the fireplace, arranging them under the wood he'd set up that morning. With no response, he set the fire and then moved into the kitchen. He wondered what was on her mind, but knew that no matter how much he probed, she would only tell her what she was comfortable with. After all these years, her barriers had definitely broken down significantly, but there were still things she preferred not to divulge. She never had been one to be found in an emotional state, but he could always feel when those times were. Occasionally he'd find out only after her mini-breakdown, what had caused her emotional havoc.

As he poured the milk in the pot on the stove, she came through the side door into the kitchen, clad in her flannel pajamas and her purple satin slippers.

"So, what's up doc?" He turned the burner to medium and leaned on the stove looking towards her.

She glanced down at the milk in the pot. She sighed. "I guess… I wonder where he is right now," she said quietly, seemingly obsessed with the look of the milk in the pot.

He nodded and looked up to the window above the stove. "Well, I most certainly hope he's inside if it's like this wherever he is," he said and dropped the blinds. She looked up at him as he had taken over staring at the pot.

"I wonder what he looks like," she whispered, and he turned towards her. "I wonder… I wonder how tall he is, what color his eyes are, and what he's good at in school. I wonder what his favorite cartoon is and what his room is decorated like," she continued. "I know it's useless, but-"

"You have a right, we have a right, to have these questions. But we can't change the situation." He turned to the cupboard and brought out the chocolate mix. She studied his face – generally, it was she who refused to talk about their son, so this was a rare occurrence.

"Mulder-" She began but was cut off.

"We're out of marshmallows." He moved the items in the cupboard around, failing to meet her eyes. She nodded as he continued to search through the cabinet.

Once again, Scully turned her eyes towards the milk as it began to boil. She removed it from the burner and onto the oven mitt that was sitting on the counter.

"Why are you upset right now?" she asked as she reached to turn the burner off.

"Why am I upset?" He slammed the cupboard, "I'm upset because my son will be eight years old in two weeks and I have no idea if he even knows how to hold a baseball bat or to shoot a basketball. I'm upset because I don't know who his friends' parents are, or what his favorite color is," He finally met her eyes, which had, by this point, glazed over with unshed tears.

She just stared back into his eyes, shocked by his outburst, and without a response, she pushed herself off of the counter and towards the door. Walking through the door she made her way to the den and sat on the couch, facing the fire. Pulling the throw blanket around her body, she rested her head against the back of the couch, releasing a sigh and closing her eyes. It was just a few moments later that a cup was placed in her hand and she opened her eyes. He cuddled in next to her with his own mug and sipped his hot chocolate. "I'm sorry, Scully," he sat back a bit to look into her face. "I know that sounded like I was blaming you-"

"As you should," she took a sip of her own hot chocolate. "You had no say in the matter." She stated bluntly, looking into her cup.

"Which is actually my fault," he set his cup on the coffee table in front of the couch, leaning in for hers as well. Removing her mug from her hands, he set it on the table. "It's not your fault at all," he said as he brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. A single tear made it's way down her cheek. "I…." She looked to him then looked to the fire. "I need to know that he is safe," She turned towards him as the dam began to open. "I've been thinking about him lately, and I'm not sure why, but the need to know-"

"I'll find out," He cupped her face. "I'll make some calls and I'll find out," He said as he brushed the tears from her cheek.

"You cant," she cried. "There's no way to know," she opened her eyes.

"There's always a way," He pulled her head into her shoulder and she let out a sob. "There's always a way."


	2. Time Chapter 2

Part 2 to "Time". You need to read it if you want to understand. Sorry that it has been so long to continue. Life got ahold of me for a bit.

**Please review, but be nice about it if you have criticisms, s'il vouz plait **

**Nothing belongs to me. No characters, No Money…. Basically just my imagination. So please don't sue me – I'm a poor college student so can't afford it anyways. **

"Mmm," she woke up to turbulence.

"Shh, go back to sleep," Mulder whispered as he carried her up the stairs.

"You could have woken me up," she sighed as he stubbed his toe for the second time. "Put me down."

"Yes, my queen," he dropped her to the bed. He hovered over her. "Anything else my dearest?" He nuzzled kisses into her neck.

She gasped. "I was not expecting that," she put her hands under his shirt. "Mul-" the phone interrupted them.

"Jesus…. Its three in the morning," he mumbled as he leaned over her to reach the phone. "Yeah," he grumbled into the phone, resting his head on her chest. She closed her eyes and ran her hands through his hair. "What!?" he shot up. She was instantly concerned. The doorbell rang. He hung up. "Get dressed," he hopped off of the bed and flipped on the light.

"Mulder, what is it," But he was already halfway down the stairs. "Mulder," she demanded and followed him. She stopped dead in her tracks on the first step when she saw who was at the door.

"Mulder, Scully, I apologize for waking you." The voice was unmistakable, as was the face.

"Monica just called," Mulder announced to Walter Skinner as he shut the door. "What do you know?" Mulder crossed his arms over his tee shirt.

"What is going on," Scully demanded as she slowly came down the stairs. "Why are you here?" She handed Skinner a towel to dry himself from the downpour. "This is one hell of an entrance after three years of not hearing from you," she said and came to stand next to them.

"She doesn't know?" Skinner asked pointedly.

"Monica said there was a problem. What do you know?" Mulder demanded."

"Mulder, what is going on?" she looked back and forth between the two. "Skinner?"

"Monica has been keeping track of William," Skinner answered, while maintaining full eye contact with Mulder. Mulder closed his eyes.

She was speechless. There was nothing she could say. She couldn't even move.

"Scul-" she shook her head at Mulder's apologetic interjection.

"And now something's wrong." She asserted.

Skinner looked from one to the other. As Mulder covered his face, Scully pressed on. "What is wrong, Skinner? You didn't show up here at 3 in the morning to just stare at us." She was getting angry.

"He was taken from his day care today. The place has been searched up and down, there is no evidence left behind. No one saw anything. The woman who was in charge left them alone to take a nap. She said she stepped out of the room for 30 seconds to use the restroom. When she came back, William was missing.

"NOONE saw this person?" Mulder interjected. "Noone, in the middle of the day, in… "

"You've known where he is. You've known all along," she whispered.

"No. I have no idea where he is. All I have known is that he was being taken care of." He said and turned to her. "And now what? Why are you here? We have no legal rights," he hissed at Skinner. "So what do you want? Us to find him and then give him back to whoever was unable to keep him safe?"

Scully sunk down onto the bottom step, in shock.

"The whole point in giving him up was to ensure that he was taken care of," Mulder started yelling.

"There have been reports of someone paying a special interest in him. That is where you come in. We need you to help us find the man who has been watching him."

"No, you can't make him profile our son's kidnapper," Scully stood up. "You can't do that. He can't do that. No way," she crossed her arms. "We don't even know where he's been living. We don't know a thing about him," she whispered. "Don't you dare come in here and take-"

"Scully, he's not asking me to profile." He shook his head. "He's asking me to find him."

"If you'd let me explain, we have hunches on where he is. We need you to find him. We tried to do this on our own. But he's been missing for four days now. We need outside help. We need you." He looked over to Scully. "I know this is difficult-"

"Difficult? You know how difficult this is?" She hissed into his face. "Are you the one who goes to sleep every night and wonders about your son? Are you the one who lives with the fact that you gave him up? I don't think you have a clue as to how difficult this is," She softened. "He has a family. What about them? We can't just swoop in and take him back."

"That is exactly what we are going to do," Mulder announced, and started up the stairs.

"Give us a moment," she said as she followed him up. "Mulder, do I have a say in this at all?" She said quietly as she followed him into their bedroom.

"We have to find him, you know that," He tore his shirt off.

"And what then? Give him up all over again? What then, Mulder?" She probed. "You can't go without me. And I can't do that again," She said softly.

"He's ours. We can take care of him. Obviously nobody else can," he brushed the hair from her face and went to the closet. "Here," he pulled out an outfit for her to change into: jeans and a sweater.

She shook her head. "I don't believe this," tears welled up in her eyes. "Mulder…." She couldn't speak another word.

"I know," he engulfed her in his arms. "We're going to find him," he pulled back and kissed her forehead.

"What if we don't? We can't go back to living on the run, either," he cut her off with a kiss. "Mul-" he put his finger on her lips.

"We'll find him," he stepped away and found some clothes for himself. "Please, get dressed so we can go," he said. "We are already behind."

She complied.

To be continued


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

He looked at her in amazement.

"Make it a double," she asked the flight attendant. "And please bring two," Scully brought out her credit card. "Too bad you don't take cash anymore," she mumbled.

"Anything for you, sir?" The flight attendant wrote the order in her notepad.

"Umm… sure, a beer," he was still shocked. She rarely even had a glass of wine, let alone hard alcohol.

"You're not going to get sloshed and make moves on me, are you?" he whispered into her ear.

She closed her eyes. "Well….. that was not the plan, but now that you mention it, it might make me feel better," she turned towards him and managed a small smile.

He took her hand. "When we land, we have a good two hours before Skinner meets us," he kissed her hand. She just looked him in his eyes.

"What if we don't find him," she whispered.

"You know that of all people, we are the most qualified to find him. The bigger question is, what will we do when we find him?" He asked back.

She studied his eyes. "You already know the answer to that question," She turned towards the window.

"Scully, we-" She turned back to him sharply.

"We haven't even found him yet. Don't already try to tell me I can't hold on to him before I've even located him," she snapped.

"That's not where I was going," He took her two drinks from the flight attendant and placed them on her table tray, then turned to take his beer. "You of all people know not to jump. We have no idea what kind of state he will be in, we don't know anything about is current condition. This is difficult, I know it is, believe me, but we have to try to look at this like it's a case. A very important case, but if we act as if we are too close, we will lose our objectivity," he tapped her drink.

"I am his mother…. I don't think I can be any closer than that," she swigged a big gulp of her whiskey lemonade. She coughed and went for more. "I don't know how you expect me to step back. And quite frankly," she finished her small cup. "I don't know how you're not banging down the doors of this… airplane," she picked up her second drink.

"Slow down," he took her drink. "Let it sit for a minute, you're going to be drunk in five as it is," he sniffed it and winced. "I know how close I am. I also know that we can deal with it when we are not in the field, looking for him," he chugged a good 25% of his beer. "We process with each other. I have to try to block that out so that I can use all of my resources to find him, and not to worry as much," He set her drink in front of her. "All I mean is that we need to prioritize…. First we have to find him before we think past that point," he whispered and put his other hand over the two that were already glued together. She looked down at their hands.

"You're right," she tapped her finger on her drink. "We don't talk about this unless we are alone… in bed or something," she closed her eyes.

"Already hittin you, eh?" he brushed her hair aside as she leaned her head onto his shoulder.

"Not really," she reached for her drink and sipped a significantly smaller portion than before, barely lifting her head. "I'm just tired. But there's no way I can sleep right now," she mumbled.  
"Twenty bucks says you can," he teased as she sipped more of her drink. "I got another ten that says it'll be within fifteen minutes," he had more of his beer.

She smacked him in the arm and opened her book. "Whatever," she finished her drink. "And what kind of side jobs are you doing to have so much extra cash?" she probed.

He laughed. "Selling "I Want To Believe" posters," he finished his beer.

She laughed at that and looked to him. She put a hand to his cheek. "I don't tell you that I love you enough," she whispered. "I love you," she massaged her thumb on his cheek. "Even though you try to take advantage of the fact that you think I'm sloshed," she pulled his hand off of her thigh.

"Psh," he resigned back into his seat.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are coming through the cabin a final time for any trash you may have. Please make sure that your seats and tray tables are in lock and full upright position. We will begin our initial descent into Billings." Mulder let out a breath he did not know he was holding. Scully closed her book and looked out the window.

He took her hand as he always had when preparing for a landing. Twelve years, and some things never changed.


End file.
